Walk Into The Sun
by Sunshinecackle
Summary: Henry's icy heart melted every second it was exposed to pure sunlight in the form of Vic.


**Title:** Walk Into The Sun  
 **Author:** Donnie  
 **Fandom:** IT  
 **Setting:** Vic's bedroom  
 **Pairing:** Henry Bowers/Victor "Vic" Criss  
 **Characters:** Henry Bowers, Victor "Vic" Criss, Patrick Hockstetter, Reginald "Belch" Huggins  
 **Genre:** Romance  
 **Rating:** K  
 **Chapters:** 1/1  
 **Word Count:** 741  
 **Type of Work:** One-Shot  
 **Status:** Complete  
 **Warnings:** Gay, Slash, Yaoi, AU - Canon Divergent, Bowers Gang are Seniors, Fluff, Vague Internalized Homophobia, Henry doesn't know what to do with his feelings, Vic is pleasantly surprised  
 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.  
 **Summary:** Henry's icy heart melted every second it was exposed to pure sunlight in the form of Vic.

 **AN:** I found this story on Tumblr, and like. I had to write something with these boys. ; u; I absolutely adore these two, and they are precious, and I will maintain that forever. Anyway, have some more of my boys being precious and wonderful.

 **Walk Into The Sun** ****

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Vic wasn't a very big guy.

Even at seventeen, he was svelte, lean, a thousand other things that meant thin. He was somewhat tall, sure, but more like a beanstalk like Patrick was. At least Patrick had some muscle on him.

If Henry had been in this position with _Patrick_ , which wasn't particularly likely, maybe he would have had an excuse. Belch would have been a wonderful excuse. A young man at six-foot eight and bordering on two hundred and fifty pounds, that would have been something to write home about. A five-foot eleven teen weighing one hundred and fifteen soaking wet? Henry Bowers should have been able to move him with a single finger.

And, yet, here he was, trapped in Vic's bed, his jacket laid out beneath them, positive that he couldn't move the angel curled into his chest, dead asleep. Petting hair out of the other's face, he pressed a kiss to his forehead. When even that didn't rouse the sleeping blond, he sighed heavily and looked to his jacket. One sleeve was full of the arm he'd had over Vic's side, and the other, along with the rest of the too-large cotton jacket, was underneath the other teen.

Henry had forgotten just what had lead to this moment, until he tried to move and Vic groaned in discomfort, which had him right back in his position, curled around the blond. While he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having a weakness, especially one so taboo, he found himself unable to even think of moving Vic.

Frustrated, Henry bit the inside of his cheek, glancing around them. His eyes dropped to his pocket and he rose a brow at the shape of his knife within it. This was a stupid, crazy, totally _gay_ thing to have thought right then, but it was all he had to go off of. If he couldn't move Vic without waking him, and he couldn't stand the thought of waking him, then he had to do _something_.

Pulling the knife from his pocket carefully, he flipped the blade open and placed the edge against the grey hoodie's neck. Carefully trying to keep from ruining Vic's mattress beneath them, he slowly slid the sharp edge down between them. Mourning less for the fabric and more for the loss of touch, Henry finally found himself able to slide away to climb out of his quiet lover's bed.

If his dad was awake, he was going to know that he'd spent this whole time out. He'd find that his jacket was in half, and probably be ready to lay into his son for the next ten years. But that didn't matter. What did matter was that Vic groped blindly for him, a disgruntled scrunch of his face showing that he wanted nothing more than to be held again. Henry's heart ached so suddenly he lost his breath, and he very nearly crawled back over the other and held him once more.

Pushing himself, he moved for his best friend's window, hoisting his body up and over the ledge. Dropping to his feet and rolling a little, he glanced back up at the window with a kind of longing he'd never quite felt before. Being with Vic was such a natural occurrence, something that always just seemed to be _it_ , the thing he needed most, that leaving had grown painful when things had, undoubtedly, progressed.

It took every ounce of strength he had to turn and walk towards his dad's place, but Henry managed to take his walk of shame without any repercussions.

-

A solid ten minutes before his alarm, Vic awoke, cold and dizzy with the sudden jerk he did onto his knees. He never slept on his stomach when Henry was over. It took him a second before he finally looked down. That was Henry's jacket, the one he'd worn over the night before. Okay, well, it was roughly half of his jacket. A small smile worked over his lips and he snagged the grey, thin fabric up off of his bed. Pressing it to his nose, he hummed, delighted that it still held just a little bit of Henry's scent. With that in his head and the promise that his boyfriend would be there when he got to school, Vic set about getting ready. They were seniors! Today was the big day.

Hopefully it wouldn't be too overwhelming.

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 **AN:** The prompt for this was based off of a bit of Chinese history. Here is the excerpt that I read.

 _Chinese emperor Ai of Han, fell in love with a minor official, a man named Dong Xian, and bestowed upon him great political power and a magnificent palace. Legend has it that one day while the two men were sleeping in the same bed, the emperor was roused from his sleep by pressing business. Dong Xian had fallen asleep across the emperor's robe, but rather than awaken his peaceful lover, the Emperor cut his robe free at the sleeve. Thus "the passion of the cut sleeve" became a euphemism for same-sex love in China._


End file.
